Chapter 6

It was, perhaps, an hour past midnight. A faint moonlight still clung to the sky. Wrapping a bedsheet over herself from head to foot, Parvati stepped down the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. Looking about, she saw that no one was awake. Unlocking the door, she stepped silently out onto the path. A village road, utterly still, entirely deserted—there was no fear of encountering anyone. Unhindered, she came to stand before the landlord's manor. Up on the grand gateway, the old durwan, Kishan Singh, had spread out a cot and was still reading Tulsidas’s Ramayana; seeing Parvati enter, he asked without raising his eyes, "Who is that?"

Parvati said, "It is I."

From the voice, the durwan knew it was a woman. Supposing her to be a maidservant, he asked no further questions and resumed chanting his Ramayana in a sing-song tone. Parvati passed on. It was summer; out in the courtyard several servants lay sleeping, some fully asleep, some half-awake. Through a haze of slumber one or two caught sight of Parvati, but taking her for a maid, did not speak. Parvati entered the inner quarters without hindrance and went upstairs. Every room, every window of this house was familiar to her. It took her no time to recognize Devdas’s room. The door stood open, and inside a lamp was burning. Stepping within, Parvati saw Devdas asleep on his bed. Near his pillow a book still lay open—it seemed he had only just drifted off to sleep. Trimming the lamp to brighten its light, she came and seated herself silently at Devdas’s feet. Save for the tick-tock of the large clock upon the wall, everything was hushed, everything asleep.

Placing a hand upon his feet, Parvati called softly, "Devda!—"

Through the fog of sleep, Devdas heard someone calling. Without opening his eyes, he murmured, "Mmh—"

"Oh, Devda—"

This time Devdas rubbed his eyes and sat up. Parvati’s face was uncovered, and the lamp in the room burned brightly; he recognized her easily enough. Yet at first he could scarcely believe his eyes. Then he said, "What is this? Is that you, Paru?"

"Yes, it is I."

Devdas glanced at the clock. His surprise deepened further—he said, "At this hour of the night?"

Parvati did not answer; she remained sitting with her head bowed.

Devdas asked again, "Have you come all alone at such an hour?"

Parvati said, "Yes."

Devdas, trembling with anxiety and dread, exclaimed, "What are you saying! Were you not afraid on the way?"

Parvati smiled faintly and said, "I do not fear ghosts very much."

"You may not fear ghosts, but surely you fear men! Why have you come?"

Parvati gave no answer, but said to herself, At a time like this, I suppose I do not even fear that.

"How did you enter the house? Did no one see you?"

"The durwan saw me."

Devdas’s eyes widened. "The durwan saw you? Anyone else?"

"The servants are sleeping in the courtyard—perhaps some among them saw me too."

Devdas bounded off the bed and bolted the door. "Did anyone recognize you?" Showing not the slightest trace of anxiety, Parvati said with utter composure, "They all know me; perhaps someone did recognize me."

"What are you saying? Why did you do such a thing, Paru?"

Parvati thought to herself, How could you ever understand that? But she spoke no word; she sat with her face turned downward.

"At such an hour of the night! Shame, shame! How will you show your face tomorrow?"

Still keeping her face bowed, Parvati murmured, "I have courage enough for that."

At these words Devdas felt no anger, but overwhelmed with distress, he said, "Shame on you—are you still a little child? Did you feel not the slightest shame coming here like this, in this manner?"

Parvati shook her head and said, "None at all."

"Will your head not hang in utter disgrace tomorrow?"

Hearing the question, Parvati looked into Devdas’s face for a moment with a gaze both sharp and full of sorrow, then said without hesitation, "I would indeed hang my head in disgrace—had I not known for certain that you would cover all my shame."

Devdas, bewildered with astonishment, said, "I! But how shall I show my own face?"

Parvati answered in the same unruffled voice, "You? But what is it to you, Devda?"

After a brief silence she spoke again: "You are a man. If not today, then tomorrow, everyone will forget your stain; in a day or two no one will remember—on what night the wretched Parvati cast everything aside to lay her head at your feet."

"What is this, Paru?"

"And as for me—"

As if spellbound, Devdas whispered, "And as for you?"

"You speak of my disgrace? No, I have no disgrace. If I am slandered for coming to you in secret, that slander will not touch me."

"What is this, Paru? Are you weeping?"

"Devda, there is so much water in the river. Will even all that water not drown my shame?"

Suddenly Devdas seized both of Parvati’s hands. "Parvati!"

Placing her head upon Devdas’s feet, Parvati cried out in a choked voice, "Give me a little room right here, Devda!"

After that, both fell silent. Down Devdas’s feet, many tears rolled onto the white bedding.

After a long time, Devdas lifted Parvati’s face and said, "Paru, is there no other way for you but me?"

Parvati did not speak. She remained lying as before, her head rested upon his feet. In the quiet room, only her heavy, tear-laden sighs rose and fell, swelling and trembling. The clock struck two with clear, chiming strokes. Devdas called, "Paru!"

Parvati answered in a choked whisper, "Yes?"

"Our parents are entirely set against it—have you heard that?"

Parvati nodded to signify that she had heard. After that, both fell silent again. When a long time had passed, Devdas uttered a heavy sigh and said, "Then why go on?"

Just as a drowning person clutches blindly at the riverbed mud and refuses to let go at any cost, so Parvati clung to Devdas’s feet like one senseless. Looking up into his face, she said, "I wish to know nothing, Devda!"

"Paru, shall I disobey my parents?"

"What harm is there? Do so."

"Where will you stay then?"

Weeping, Parvati said, "At your feet—"

Once more they both sat in silence. The clock struck four. It was a summer night, and seeing that dawn would break in a short while, Devdas took Parvati by the hand and said, "Come, let me walk you back home—"

"Will you come with me?"

"What is the harm? If scandal spreads, perhaps some remedy may yet be found—"

"Come then."

Together, with silent steps, they went out into the night.